In With A Bang  a celebration story
by sadlady
Summary: Drugs, New Year and celebrations


In With A Bang

Bodie cursed his luck for drawing the short straw for New Year's Eve duty. He'd planned a quiet evening in: indoors, in bed, in Maggie, but then Jax went down with 'flu, Murph was away on a much needed break and had gone to Amsterdam and Bodie was next on the list for cover.

Traditionally it was a quiet duty. Everyone else had parties lined up and that included the villains. Not this year though. Working on the assumption that everyone would be ringing in the New Year, the Moretti brothers, a thorn in the side of the Drug Squad for far too long, had decided to bring in a huge consignment of cocaine via the docks. They had hoped that the Met would be operating with a skeleton staff only, making the job of unloading the drugs from the small cruiser trouble free and quick.

They had reckoned without one drunken crew member, shouting his mouth off in a riverside pub. To make matters worse, the loose lipped one had chosen a pub hosting a Christmas 'do' for the local police force. A young constable, not quite so worse for wear as some of his colleagues, overhead the boast and reported in to his boss. The news travelled quickly through the echelons of power, and ended up on George Cowley's desk, where the canny Scotsman saw the opportunity of seizing the drugs, and the Moretti brothers, thus putting an end to their smuggling activities. A plan was meticulously worked out between the Met's finest and CI5, and a group of officers and agents readied for a different type of New Year celebration.

However, the best laid plans of mice and men don't always work as expected, and Giancarlo Moretti learned about the indiscretion of his crew member. Having dealt with that gentleman in a particularly final manner, the Morettis, unable to change their plans due to an even more ruthless buyer for their product, pressed ahead with the unloading, and they now knew about the welcoming committee!

Bodie had got the call to duty on the afternoon of the 31st December. Jax had sounded awful and was extremely apologetic about having to ask for cover. Bodie knew that he wouldn't have called unless he had been dead on his feet, and so with the minimum of grumbling, he got ready to go to work. He phoned Maggie, promising her he would make it up to her and thanking his lucky stars that as a copper, she knew that 'off duty' was an elastic term.

Maggie although disappointed, easily forgave him "I'll wait at your place, and we'll have our own New Year celebration when you get back."

Bodie laughed softly down the phone. "Shouldn't take too long," he said. "I'm sorry to let you down tonight of all nights, but . . ."

"It comes with the territory," Maggie finished off for him. "Just come home safely Bodie, and make sure that beautiful body of yours stays in one piece."

She rang off leaving Bodie feeling strangely empty. He then tried calling Doyle, but the little toerag wasn't picking up the phone.

Mind you, Bodie mused, there wasn't any reason for him to – Doyle was entitled to leave as much as anyone, and Bodie didn't really begrudge his partner time away from the job. It would have been nice to have him as back up though.

At around 9.30 pm that evening, Bodie drove quickly through the deserted streets of the City, past Tower Bridge and out towards the Isle of Dogs. The night was clear and cold, and the wind beginning to gust. It was chilly and there was a faint drizzle in the wind. He reached a deserted warehouse near to East Greenwich, where the rest of the team from the Met and CI5 were gathering. Jones waved a greeting and pointed to a table which held a couple of large Thermos flasks and a stack of plastic cups. Bodie gratefully grabbed one and poured himself a cup of tea. He mingled with others from CI5, all commiserating with each other about missing the New Year festivities. Roberts wandered over raising his eyebrows in puzzlement.

"I thought Murphy was standing for Jax," he said.

Bodie shook his head. "Nah, he's in Amsterdam. Managed to wangle a coupla days off."

Roberts nodded. "Where's the small spiky tempered one then?" he asked."Not like him to miss a chance to bag some drug smugglers. 'E hates 'em!"

Bodie laughed. "He's on leave as well. Said he's having a quiet night in. Doesn't like New Year."

Roberts pulled a face. "Each to his own. I was going up west with some mates. We'd planned to have dinner in Chinatown, and then one drink at every pub in Covent Garden. If this goes well, I might even manage the drinking part."

Roberts moved off and Bodie listened to the chat around him. It was mainly about missing friends in the pub, parties or the opportunity to meet and greet other revellers at midnight. Bodie thought about the delicious Maggie, and hoped she'd wait up for him whatever time he got back. He thought about Doyle. His partner had never much cared for New Year, preferring to go to bed early. On the odd occasion Bodie had persuaded him to take part in the festivities Doyle had ended up completely off his face. Given that he didn't drink much, Bodie had reached the conclusion that there was some dark trauma in Doyle's past that produced such a reaction every 31st December. Still, he hoped fervently that Doyle was enjoying himself whatever he'd chosen to do.

The conversations ceased as the door to the warehouse opened. George Cowley, accompanied by the head of the Drug Squad walked in. The agents drew up chairs and sat down. It was 10.30 pm, and the briefing began.

By 11.15pm, Bodie and his colleagues were quietly entering the disused boatyard in East Greenwich. Bodie could see the outline of the cruiser berthed at an old pier. It seemed they may have just got the drop on this particular set of villains. There was no sign of any activity, although the craft was showing its running lights, and the engine was ticking over noisily. Cowley motioned his team to find shelter and to make themselves comfortable and invisible. It could be a while before anything happened, and then the action would be immediate and brutal.

Bodie made his way noiselessly across the car park, signalling to Jones and Dixon to flank him on either side. By 11.30pm, all the law enforcement teams were in place, and the long wait began.

Shortly afterwards three cars, lights switched off, drove into the yard. They stopped and disgorged a number of men, some clearly armed with shotguns, by the pier. Two men, wearing expensive heavy woollen overcoats began shouting instructions in English and Italian. The area came alive with hustle and bustle, as men began running to and from the cars, some boarding the cruiser, while another watched for activity from up river. Several stood around alert and menacing, shotguns clearly visible in their hands.

Bodie's RT crackled into life, and he heard the code word to start the operation. Creeping across the dark expanse of dockland in East Greenwich with the team, Bodie heard the bells of St Alphegh in the distance, ringing in the New Year. Without warning, the Morettis opened fire on the squad and all hell broke loose.

The sound of semi automatic gunfire ended the peace of the night. Bodie's world became one of bullets whining past him, striking abandoned oil cans and other junk littering the boatyard. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness, creating weird and fantastical shapes which were gone almost immediately. The noise was overwhelming, and the smell of gunfire mixed with the odours of the river left a sickening, sweet taste in Bodie's mouth.

He hunkered down behind a clapped out old rowing boat, missing most of one side. Bullets smacked into the ground far too close for comfort. He shot back, trying to make each bullet count. He could hear cries of alarm, coming from the cruiser. Shouting at their gang, the Morettis desperately issued orders to unload the cocaine into a small van parked next to the boat. The gang members fought hard all the while trying to keep the law from encroaching any further. There was a small explosion aboard the cruiser, and its engine died. To his right Bodie could see the blue flashing lights from the river police speedboats, powering along the Thames to cut off any chance of escape for the drug smugglers. He kept firing, grimly targeting the gang members, wanting the whole episode to be over as soon as possible and hopefully with him intact! His skills as a marksman were good, and he heard a scream from the boat as someone was hit.

Thankfully, it ended soon after. Out-manned and out gunned, with members of the river police now swarming on shore, the members of the gang gave up. Bodie thanked his god that he'd made it through in one piece, and that none of his team was hurt. Injuries to the bad guys didn't concern him – one dead and three injured. Swiftly the police began the cleanup operation. Ambulances and police vans appeared from nowhere. The Drug Squad climbed aboard the cruiser, establishing a crime scene, locating the large stash of drugs and finally, putting an end to the Morettis' drug smuggling business.

Bodie sat down heavily on the dockside. He was bone cold, and trying to deal with the adrenalin rush coursing through his body. He wanted a drink, just to get the taste of cordite out of his system. He wanted something to eat, something unhealthy; a fry up perhaps. He thought of Doyle and how he would have poked fun at Bodie's diet. It was strange Doyle not being part of the team this time. Bodie trusted Roberts and Jones to do their job, but he trusted Doyle with his life. He had come through another dangerous situation and now he wanted to go home and make love to Maggie, and welcome in the New Year

Roberts wandered over to him, and sat down. "Well, that's that," he remarked. "Another job done. Got the drugs and the gang. The Met boys'll be pleased. The Morettis have been trouble for years. Caught'em red handed tonight though. Now we can all go 'ome and celebrate."

Bodie smiled at his colleague. "Well at least we saw the New Year in with a bang," he said softly

Chapter Two

While Bodie was rearranging his evening Doyle was preparing for his. He'd had a long hot bath, read an interesting article given to him by Kate, his current girlfriend, and drunk half a bottle of wine. He padded out from the bathroom, water dripping from his long curly hair. Humming quietly, he busied himself tidying up the flat. His current abode was a split level apartment, small and intimate, and for once Doyle was quite happy to stay there. He turned the lights down low in the living room, creating long shadows on the cream walls. The heating was on, making the room cosy and welcoming. He shook out the cushions and closed the curtains.

He wondered how Bodie was faring with Maggie. His partner seemed much taken with the cool redhead, and she seemed ideally suited for Bodie's temperament. He wandered out to the kitchen to put another bottle of wine in the fridge. Kate was on her way, and Doyle was very much looking forward to celebrating New Year.

At 10.30pm, while Bodie was in the warehouse listening to the briefing, Doyle was lying on his bed, as naked as the day he was born, doing his best to concentrate on synchronising his breathing with Kate's.

She was sitting astride him, gently rocking, and all the while watching him while he tried without much success to keep his errant cock from spoiling his first session of tantric sex. He'd read the article Kate had given him, and together they'd decided to try four basic exercises. Trouble was, Kate was so desirable, Doyle couldn't be bothered to practice synchronised breathing and maintaining eye contact. He just wanted to screw Kate, for as long as she'd let him! Her perfume, a subtle, delicate citrus scent drifted up his nose, while her gently swaying breasts left him mesmerised.

She shifted her weight slightly forwards and without waiting for its owner to mentally adjust to this new position, Doyle's cock slipped between Kate's thighs. He sighed inwardly, wondering if he was going to be able to maintain any degree of composure while Kate looked so inviting. She had wanted to try tantric sex for some time, and his bath time reading had kindled his interest enough to agree. However, as soon as she had slipped off her tee shirt, and Doyle had caught sight of her luscious breasts, he knew he'd lost the battle before it had even started

However by 11.15pm, when Bodie was standing in a dark yard, with the wind chilling his bones, Doyle and Kate had abandoned their experiment, and were indulging in a game of scrabble!

Kate had called an end to their attempts, citing Doyle's inability to focus on the elements of the breathing exercises and the eye contact. Doyle had blamed his failure to concentrate on Kate's breasts. This comment caused Kate to administer a short, sharp slap on Doyle's arse. Both of them had then collapsed laughing and given up trying. With the warmth that comes with friendship as well as intimacy, they agreed to put their experiment on hold for a while. They both decided the time spent attempting to reach a whole body orgasm was time they could put to better use, although Doyle privately thought scrabble was not quite what he had in mind.

He had sauntered off to the kitchen to find another bottle of wine. Meanwhile, Kate, searching for her tee shirt in the tangle of clothes strewn across the floor, found the game underneath Doyle's bed. With a cry of amusement she had set up the board and cajoled Doyle into playing.

The game didn't last long. With the wine relaxing them both, Doyle suggested going back to bed to indulge in some 'horizontal game playing' as he put it. Kate looked at her man, sitting in the middle of the bed, wearing only a wicked smile and thought it was the best idea he'd had all night.

By 11.30, Doyle and Kate were lying in bed, gently touching each other's bodies. They kissed slowly and deeply, tongues softly exploring each other's mouth. Doyle traced his fingers around Kate's collar bone and slowly downwards. Kate drew her breath in as Doyle gently cupped her breast while his tongue trailed down her body.

She ran her fingers across his chest, tugging gently at the beautiful gold nipple ring, nestling in his dark chest hair. Slipping her hand down between his legs she took hold of his erection, and welcomed the knowledge that before long Doyle would be inside her.

While noting Doyle's own hand imitating her movements, she idly thought this was possibly the best way to spend New Year's Eve.

At midnight, when Bodie had heard the church bells announcing the New Year, Kate heard and felt Doyle celebrate by reaching a magnificent climax, his jade eyes closed tight in ecstasy, while his hips ground against her body. Almost immediately she reached her own climax, holding onto Doyle, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

All too soon the delicious feeling of abandonment passed, and they lay together, warm and sticky with the aftermath of their love making. Doyle switched on the bedside radio. The programme was live from Trafalgar Square, the announcer trying to make himself heard over the cheering and shouting. The friendship and good will of the revellers seemed to emanate from the radio, filling the small apartment with contentment and a promise of good things to come.

Kate raised herself up on one elbow, and looked down at Doyle. He had a faraway dreamy look on his face. Gently she traced the outline of his mouth with one finger. "Happy New Year sweetheart," she said softly. "Hope you get everything you want."

"I think I just did," Doyle replied. He mirrored her position, leaning on one elbow. A roguish grin split his features, and his green eyes danced with merriment.

"Everyone should start the New Year off with a bang," he murmured, kissing Kate slowly.

The End


End file.
